


Free To Be You and Me

by Anonymous



Category: Supernatural RPF
Genre: Angst, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-05
Updated: 2015-03-05
Packaged: 2018-03-16 11:54:15
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 585
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3487310
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Firefly AU. For the prompt "Jensen as Mal and Jared as Inara."</p>
            </blockquote>





	Free To Be You and Me

“So where is everyone?” Jared comes into the dining area like it’s perfectly normal for him to wander out of his shuttle wearing only a soft sunset-orange kimono that clings lovingly to him in all the right places.

Jensen’s only response is to snort softly into his drink. Right, like the little bastard doesn’t know perfectly well that they’re alone on the ship.

“Too early for actual words?” Jared pours himself some coffee and inclines his head toward the whiskey in Jensen’s hands. The gesture makes his hair flop into his eyes, and he shakes it back with a smooth, practiced movement of his hand, fingers tucking long strands behind his ear as he takes his first sip of caffeine and makes an appreciative sound that should be banned on this side of the outer planets.

Jensen looks down into his drink, swirls it around with a twist of his wrist and watches it reflect the overhead light. “Work go well?”

“Is that a trick question?” Jared asks cautiously. 

“Dude. It’s too early for this.”

“Yeah. Right,” Jared mutters. “It was good. Work, I mean.”

“Good to know,” Jensen says lightly. He drains his glass and gets up, gives it a quick rinse at the sink and leaves Jared sitting there with his stupid hair that has the gall to throw up auburn highlights under the single bulb above the table.

 

\--

 

“If you don’t want me here,” Jared begins. It’s dinner time and it’s still just the two of them. Jensen’s eating a hastily-thrown-together sandwich standing at the small counter, unwilling to share the table for a second time that day.

At least the kid’s decent this time, in dark slacks and a loose navy-blue V-necked sweater, his hair tied back. Errant strands have, of course, escaped from the ponytail, framing Jared’s face and making him look ten years younger than his thirty-two years. 

He’d returned to the ship less than a week ago—on the eve of Jensen’s thirty-seventh birthday, to be precise. Goodness knows how he’d found them; they were docked in a junkyard in the back alleys of Prometheus, one of the outermost of the outlying planets. He’d strolled in through the open airlock of the cargo bay, all long legs and skin bronzed from the sun. Alona had taken one look at him and squealed and jumped into his arms, and it hadn’t taken much longer for the rest of the crew to join in on the welcome. Jensen’s pilot Genevieve and his first mate Adrianne had joined the puppy pile of glee. Jensen’s never seen Adrianne quite as affectionate with anyone as she is with Jared (except with Genevieve, but that’s unsurprising given that the two have the status of the ship’s resident married couple).

“If I didn’t want you here,” Jensen says now, not turning around, “I wouldn’t have let you come back.”

“You hate me.”

“Don’t be ridiculous.”

“You could use the rent, Jensen. That’s the reason you let me come back.”

Jensen pinches the bridge of his nose with his fingertips. “So what if it is? Doesn’t mean I hate you.” He turns around then, meeting Jared’s gaze. “I don’t care enough to hate you.”

Jared’s eyes widen, his lips parting in a silent intake of breath, his eyes pure liquid hurt.

Jensen tosses the remains of his sandwich in the trash and heads out. 

It’s one of those rare sunny days and there’s no reason for him not to take a bit of shore leave himself.


End file.
